


The Third War

by FluffyChantilly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Crack, F/M, Fluff, Humor, It Was all Neville's Fault Anyway, Prank Wars, Roommates, Sarcasm, Seveus Snape Has a Sense of Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2020-11-27 07:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20944412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyChantilly/pseuds/FluffyChantilly
Summary: Crackfic, Roommates Prank War AU, featuring Barista!SnapeHermione Granger has enough of the chaos that has become her home and seeks to end the prank war that has been ongoing for over a year. After a hazardous encounter, she works on pulling the Biggest Prank Ever in the history of Prank War to end this nonsense. Little does she know that this mastery plan could very well back-fire on her – for better or for worse.





	1. We go to war

**Author's Note:**

> Hi dear reader ! Thank you for stopping by !
> 
> Reminder : I am not a native English speaker, please be indulgent.
> 
> Inspiration struck me at an ungodly hour, and I just had to write this first chapter. The story as a whole should be about 3-4 chapters.
> 
> Now, I hope you will enjoy this ! Reviews and Kudos are appreciated as I am a fairly new writer here so please let me know what you thought ! 
> 
> XOXO

It was war, plain and simple. The exhaustion from it was there, but the strong will to win as well. Hermione woke up with a start, immediately alert and in tune with her environment. Long were gone the lazy lie-ins of the past when she could burrow under the covers at her leisure. Instead, she withdrew her wand from beneath the pillow where she had safely put it the previous evening, a habit that was now ingrained in her. She had never been better at casting Shielding Charms in the blink of an eye – even in a semi-conscious state – as she was now.

No one had seen it coming. It had started small, slowly escalating to the outward conflict it was for almost a year now. She had tried to stop it, to make them see reason and put some sense into them, but there was so much words could do. Hermione had had to resolve to actions, but things had only gone worse from there. She was at her wits' end and had had enough of it. She could barely function as a human being anymore, always looking behind her shoulder and starting at every loud noise or unexpected movement. She thought that all they had fought for and against in the Second War had to allow them to live their lives peacefully – she had to be right. She had never been fond of camping, after all. It shouldn't have been in vain.

That was without considering her choice of roommates after said War was over. What else could she have expected, renting a flat with three of her former Gryffindor friends and the same number of their old Slytherin nemesis ? Yet, after the dust had settled on the corpse of Lordy Voldypants, they had (almost) all made peace and buried the hatchet. After the celebrations, this newfound energy that filled them to the brim had to find a productive outlet. Therefore, they had all found a new purpose in their lives, embracing their renowned or unheard-of passions in this new era where all seemed possible. However, they had to face the harsh reality of the grown-up world : housing wasn't free, and bills had to be paid every month. That's how they had all joyfully come to the brilliant idea of becoming roommates instead of living separately by themselves, all working in the same madly expensive city named London.

The Gryffindors now inhabiting 82 Jermyn Street did not consist of the infamous Golden Trio. Ron Weasley, bless his soul, had concocted an improved (read 'alcoholic') recipe of good old pumpkin juice during the festivities that followed the end of the War, making him obscenely rich after it was patented and allowing him escape to Bora Bora with his childhood sweetheart, Lavender Brown, now Weasley. Word was they were already on their way to produce a small army of red-heads of their own. Instead, it was Evil-Snake-Slayer Neville Longbottom who joined their merry band. Being of the opinion that he had had enough epic adventures to last him a lifetime, he had created his own company as an extraordinary landscape architect, allowing him to keep close to his beloved plants. Harry Potter, Him-Who-Lived-To-Die-To-Live-Again, was blissfully in love with Ginny Weasley, who was a chaser for the Tutshill Tornadoes and would soon launch her first collection as a broom designer. He himself was in training to become a Quidditch Referee, playing reserve seeker for the Falmouth Falcons in the meantime.

Their Slytherin additions included Draco Malfoy, now an apprentice Healer at St Mungo's who had been withdrawn his family inheritance following his father's trial and incarceration in now Dementor-free Azkaban. He was joined by Pansy Parkinson, a rising Real Estate agent for Gringott's, and Blaise Zabini, who was now a famous Hit Wizard.

Living together allowed them to afford a very nice duplex in center London, in which each had their own bedroom – except for Harry and Ginny – and shared an airy and large living space. They all lived happily for a couple of months, being close to their respective jobs while staying away from the Wizarding press by being located in Muggle London. They had however updated the flat with magic as soon as they had moved in, placing strong wards, connecting the Floo and sound-proofing each bedroom for the sake of everyone. In retrospect, it couldn't have stayed that way for long, Hermione thought. The rivalry was ingrained in them, especially but not only in the boys, and even if they had made peace, they still had to keep some friendly banter between them in order not to go barmy. Now, she was the one going slowly but certainly insane with the situation.

It had all started with Neville. Yes, you would say, easy to lay the blame at Poor-Shy-Little-Neville's feet. Nonetheless, when he came back home with a new plant for a client's garden, said plant was not a cute and inoffensive little peony as they all thought. When Pansy had tried to water it, the flower revealed itself to have a strong mind of its own when it chomped half of her hair, dying the other one in a sickly yellow-green. Pansy had screeched as if Voldie-kins had come back in a swimsuit, waking those who had had a late shift and giving everyone in the house a splendid view of what would without a doubt be a must-have hairstyle in 2170.

After that, it was only a matter of days, during which Pansy had taken an emergency Portkey to Paris looking for a _coiffeur_ that would be skilled enough to repair the damage, before she retaliated. She had charmed Neville's gardening tools to become bright pink and glittery for a week – he hadn't minded as much as was expected, and even secretly re-charmed some of them, as Hermione later discovered. Things had calmed down for a fortnight until Ginny was presented with new products from WWW to test. After Draco had inadvertently eaten an Extra Supra Hot Gelato instead of his regular vanilla ice cream specially reserved for the late munchkins – and once again screamed the whole house awake – things went straight to hell. Teams were formed, first the Slytherins who were persuaded that a conspiracy against them was brewing, then Harry and Ginny of course. Neville and Hermione desperately tried to stay out of it at first, but as mentioned before, they had no choice but to defend themselves.

The pranks shifted from the benign WWW candies (Harry) that everyone quickly learned to avoid to the unexpected Shrunk-hippogriff in the bedroom (Blaise). That one had taken them all four hours to clean up, after they were able to calm Neville down after he had woken up to the noise. Mind you, the pranks were never mean. They were all still getting along quite well with each other, forming close friendships. Hermione speculated that after the adrenaline of the War, they still needed something to keep them on their tiptoes. And at first, it was fun. She fondly remembered when Neville had redecorated Blaise's room as a magical forest complete with toadstools in retaliation, while performing the amazing feat of not waking the light-sleeping Hit Wizard. He was hard-pressed to change it back to its original state and kept the lounge part of his bedroom as Neville had made it.

But now, it was every second that they had to be ready. After waking to her books organized counter-alphabetically, Hermione had had enough and put her mind to strategy. Once she had re-ordered her books, and not before strongly warding her library until further notice, she hit hard where it hurt. Harry was her first target. He should have known better than to touch her sacred books and realized just that when his whistle made a very un-manly kitty meow on the Quidditch Pitch. After his trainer had rolled over in laughter at his expense for a good ten minutes – when trying to revert the charm, it only made a different cute animal sound – he vowed never to prank Hermione again. Well, never to target her books again at the very least. Still, she was in the game, and therefore as much a potential target of the overt Prank War as the other inhabitants of 82 Jermyn Street.

Lately, Hermione avoided the battlefield as much as humanly possible, seeking refuge where she could be remotely safe. Working as a Junior Graphic Designer for _The Quibbler_, which had been taken over by Luna Lovegood, and writing books for children in her spare time, she needed to be in a quiet and calm environment. The madhouse was clearly not a place where she could focus solely on her work at the moment and she had a deadline for this month's edition of _The Quibbler_. So, she changed from her pajamas to a comfy and warm long charcoal knitted dress, a leather jacket and a pair of knee-high heeled boots. Putting her hair in a messy bun and grabbing her purse, she side-stepped a discarded Fanged Frisbee and made for the door as fast and quietly as possible. It was only seven in the morning, and the others were either still at work (Draco and Blaise) or in bed.

She paid little attention to where she was heading until she realized upon apparating at Diagon Alley that it was very early and few shops were even lit, never mind open to costumers. She kept walking until she found herself almost at the end of the street. Wondering if she should be heading to Muggle London despite needing to perform magic for what she had to work on, her eyes fell on a new establishment at the very end of the alley, squeezed between a broomstick retailer and a small park with a magical play-area that was usually packed during the day. The building in question seemed to have opened not too long ago, Hermione thought as she had never seen it before and noticed the grey and taupe fresh paint. A sign that read 'Caffeinated Brews' was hanging above large glass windows. Through them, Hermione could see comfortable-looking sofas and chairs neatly organized around low wood tables decorated with candles of all sizes and types. The lights were on, and though she couldn't see anyone inside, the sign at the door clearly said it was open. Quickly making her mind, she pushed the door and entered the small coffee.


	2. Of coffee and Potion Masters

Upon crossing the threshold, Hermione was immediately assaulted by the delicious smell of freshly ground coffee beans. On the shelves behind a polished wood counter sat at least a hundred different blends and a few pastries were displayed near the checkout. She didn't notice anyone, and there had been no bell on the entrance door. Hermione was prepared to call for someone when a sinfully familiar voice made her whirl around.

“Welcome to 'Caffeinated Brews', what can I get you today ?”

The former Gryffindor could only gape. Severus Snape, whom she had recognized by those few words alone, was standing near a side door she hadn't noticed before. Clad in a white long-sleeved shirt, black trousers, and a charcoal barista apron tied around his middle section, he had a white tea towel casually hanging from his right shoulder. His hair was still long but arranged in a bun, only a few strands – not greasy at all – escaping it. Those raven locks framed a face Hermione hadn't expected to see ever again. After all was said and done and all was left of Lordy Mouldy were a pile of ashes discarded by the wind, she had returned to the Shack. However, where she had prepared herself to find the corpse of her late professor lying in a puddle of his own blood she was very surprised when she arrived in an empty Shack. The only evidence left behind of the gruesome events that had taken place there was said puddle of blood. Hermione had pondered for some time what had happened to the body of one Severus Snape. Had some of the runaway Death Eaters stopped by to pick up their former associate ? If that was the case, she didn't think Snape would have been buried among flowers and weeping friends. More like desecrated and made an example of. She entertained for a short time the fantasy of Snape rising from the dead and disappearing to a faraway island, sunbathing on a beach, giving the finger to the British Magical World and his former two masters.

But never in the few thoughts she had had for her previous Potion Master in the past couple years would she have expected to find him brewing coffee in Diagon Alley. Her eyes kept studying him, her mouth still agape when she finally focused on his eyes. Yes, those charcoal orbs could only belong to one person. Oh, and _that_ eyebrow. Giving herself an internal shake and reminding where she was and why she was there, she finally answered his previous question.

“Hello. I'll have the largest cup of your strongest brew and a cinnamon roll, please.”

For his part, Snape didn't let anything show that he had recognized her. ‘Why would he ?’ she thought, ‘You were the bane of his existence for seven years and the last time you saw him you left him for dead. No wonder he wouldn't want to have anything to do with you now. Be glad if he serves you coffee and keep your big mouth shut for now.’ Pep talk over, Hermione waited by the cash register and watched him work. His back was facing her and she noted that his shirt was a very _fitting_ shirt. He had rolled up his sleeves, revealing toned forearms.

A tattoo was covering his left one, though she couldn't see precisely what it was from there. She guessed he had wanted to cover the ugly leftover of the Dark Mark, just like Draco had done. She'd had to hold his hand the whole time and had teased him mercilessly afterward. Honestly, Luna's method was far gentler than the muggle one. In thirty minutes she had his whole arm covered by a dragon sleeve, the beast breathing fire over his previous tattoo. Luna was a very skilled artist and opened her tattoo parlor last year. Hermione herself went there six months prior and now had a thestral flying on her thigh, surrounded by roses that blossomed again and again. Maybe Snape went to see Luna too ?

Hermione had her answer to this very question as Snape turned, putting her coffee on the counter. She could glimpse what seemed to be a bird fighting a snake as he went for the pastries. Definitely Luna's work. When he came back to the cash registrar, his cuffs were neatly buttoned in place again.

“That'll be one galleon, two sickles and five knuts,” Snape said, pushing the items towards her.

She rummaged in her bag for her pouch and handed him the coins. Sensing that their conversation was over, Hermione picked up her coffee and pastry and chose a small table in one corner, near the windows. She could see a few people in the street already, but it was still fairly early in the morning. Disposing of her jacket and bag, she pulled a folder labelled ‘The Quibbler’ from it and opened it. Inside were the articles she had to layout.

Xenophilius Lovegood was still running _The Quibbler_ whose subscriptions had skyrocketed after the War. Apparently, the good people of Magical Britain had finally realized that _The Daily Prophet_ wasn't the sole newspaper available. Furthermore, Rita Skeeter and the other so-called reporters working at _The Daily_ dug their own grave when publishing article after article about not only the Golden Trio and members of the Order but also the new Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Those articles depicted various imagined scandals of a very intimate nature and not much more. After a so very _tragic _accident involving a beetle and an insect lamp in the ministry's lobby, Rita Skeeter's secret as an illegal animagus had been discovered and Azkaban – now Dementor-free – had a cell ready for her in the fortnight. Without their star-gossip writer and after such a scandal (a real one this time, mind), _The Daily Prophet_ had to pay a huge fine and was now laying low, only recording mundane and uninteresting news.

In the meantime, _The Quibbler_ had recruited several Junior reporters from different fields and had published articles ranging from political debates and analysis to scientific articles. Crumple-Horned Snorkacks and other rare magical beasts were still part of the tabloid, but only in sound and documented essays now. Newt Scamander, Luna's boyfriend, was the researcher in charge of that column. Hermione had been hired as a Graphic Designer after having helped Luna until the wee hours of the morning so the layout would be ready for printing the following day. Afterwards Hermione had offered her services, explaining what this job entailed in the muggle world. She had been hired permanently after a three-months trial.

Her deadline was the next day, and the last prank the week prior at the madhouse had made her late. She hated being late on her work. Hermione Granger had never, _ever_, been late on an assignment. She was as fuming as her coffee when she picked up her mug, recalling said event.

Once again, she hadn't seen anything coming. She thought that after so long she would have been prepared, but no. Her room, which was also her workplace, was warded within an inch of its walls, she had placed alarms everywhere and was almost always inside anyway. Almost. That day, it was her turn going grocery shopping and cooking dinner. So, after coming back home and putting away the food, she should have known something was brewing. Looking back at it, Draco and Ginny – who was home as the season was over – were a bit _too_ calm. As she pulled down the wards on her bedroom door in order to change into more comfortable clothing, something had felt odd. However, she hadn't had time to ponder on it as the second she passed the threshold, a loud _BANG!_ Resounded, followed by a few others. After a very undignified shriek, Hermione found herself face to face with a huge Firedragon. The magical firework was so enormous she couldn't move from where she was, her back to the door. After a few seconds, the dragon contorted and exploded into a dozen baby dragons that took upon themselves to create the Biggest Mayhem Ever with her things. Hermione's eye twitched. Fireworks were one thing. Fireworks that put havoc in her room were another. Within the blink of an eye, she had her wand slashing through the air, scolding the baby Firedragons and making them disappear one by one in a shower of sparks.

After all was said and done, she stood panting in the middle of her room, taking in the damage. Her library had still been warded and laid miraculously intact. Every other surface in the room was covered in papers, clothes and more papers. None of them had been burnt as the Firedragons didn't breath real fire, but that was a small mercy. Oh so very slowly, she had turned around and exited her room, in the direction of the living room. She could hear giggles from the corridor where she was, both male and female. Upon seeing Hermione entering, however, Draco and Ginny abruptly stopped giggling. They had teamed up a few months ago and ever since had pulled some of the biggest pranks. Hermione had almost been admiring of them, until today. Right now, she was livid. And, as everyone ought to know, a livid Hermione was a dangerous Hermione. So, aware of that fact, Draco and Ginny slowly stood from the couch, backing away, never losing sight of her as if she was a mad werewolf on a rampage. That wasn't such an exaggeration, as soon after the duo found themselves transfigured in a very impressive rendition of Tweety and Sylvester.

“The hell, Hermione !” had squeaked a very surprised ginger Tweety, quickly clamping its wings on its beak. The angry witch arched her eyebrow at them, her arms crossed on her chest.

“Thish ish all jusht a shmall mishundershtanding, really” added a very confused platinum blonde Sylvester.

Hermione kept glaring at them and finally said in a clipped ice-cold voice “No. Fireworks. Inside. The. Flat.”, before turning around and going back to her room.

It had taken five hours for the transfiguration on Draco and Ginny to fade. In the meantime, they had a hard time stopping laughing at their voices. For her part, Hermione didn't leave her room for the following two days, accioing food from her door. Putting everything back to her standards had taken her a whole day. Then she had to rearrange her papers into order. On top of that, she spent the three remaining days of the week researching even more unbreachable wards so the incident wouldn't happen again. The weekend, she put said wards in place and tested them in order to be absolutely sure that not even a fly could enter without her authorization.

So, all in all, she was now a week late on her work and that made for a very, _very_ cranky Hermione. Hence the extra-super strong coffee. She took a sip from her mug, as voices pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Morning, Snape, same as usual if you please. Nice weather today !”

“Morning Peterson, nice weather indeed. It'll be ready in a minute.”

In her musings, she had forgotten where she was. The voices belonged to Snape, who she could see from her seat, and a middle-aged man she recognized as the owner of the Magical Menagerie. Other customers had arrived while she was rambling in her mind, and if not crowded the place appeared lively. Hermione had a hard time reconciling the Severus Snape, Potion Master extraordinaire, ex-Death Eater, ex-spy, ex-Headmaster with the Severus Snape, talented barista, coffee blender, indulging in small talk about the weather of all things. The hairstyle and outfit change didn't help putting both personas together in her mind either. ‘That's a very nice change, though’ she mused as Snape, having delivered M. Peterson's order, was swiping tables a few meters from her, giving an impressive view of his backside.

She nibbled on her cinnamon roll as she watched him a few more minutes, before getting to work. A few hours later, she went to the counter for a refill, needing the caffeine boost.

“Same ?” Snape asked her, the ever-present eyebrow firmly in place

“Maybe something a bit less strong”, she answered, “Do you serve lunch by any chance ?”

“From 11 AM to 2 PM only, menu's on the board”, he said in an even voice, pointing above the coffee blends adorning the wall.

Scanning said board, she chose an egg sandwich and placed her order. While waiting, she glanced at the room that was still occupied by a number of customers.

“How long has this place been open ?” she asked absentmindedly.

“A year” was her answer. She turned back to Snape, who was now arranging her sandwich.

“It's a very nice place. And the coffee is to die for.”

“Obviously. Should I open you a tab ?” he glanced at her table, almost entirely covered by papers.

“That'd be a good idea” she answered with a smile, glad that Snape wasn't advert to the idea of her crowding his establishment for what would probably be the rest of the day. He nodded and handed her her food and mug.

Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon arranging the various articles for _The Quibbler_, muttering about footnotes and typo, while regularly refilling her mug. She was glad the restrooms weren't far from her seat, as she was on a rush finishing editing the layout so she could send it via the evening post. As she finished arranging the last article with a flick of her wand, she breathed an exhausted sigh and glanced around. There were only two people sharing tea at a table left, and they were standing to leave. Glancing at her watch, she was relieved to see that she still had an hour before the Post office closed and she began arranging her papers in the folder. Putting on her jacket, she stood and went to the counter where Snape was reading a journal. _Potions Monthly_ by the look of it. ‘So, he is still interested in potions’ she mused, as he put it away and stood, facing her.

She paid for her tab, putting her folder on the counter to grab her pouch in her bag.

“_The Quibbler _?” Snape asked, a tone of curiosity in his voice “Do you write for them ?”

“Actually, no” Hermione answered, surprised at his inquiry “I'm their Graphic Designer, although I do submit a paper from time to time.”

“I'm glad to see the masses have finally come to their senses and stopped buying that rag that was _The Daily_. Pity what happened to Skeeter though,” he added with a smirk.

“Pity, indeed” answered Hermione with a smug smirk of her own. “Who would have thought insect lamps worked on beetles as well.”

If possible, Snape's eyebrow raised even higher at that, soon followed by the other in an expression of surprise. “My, my, Miss Granger. Who would have thought indeed.”

“Call me Hermione”, she said smiling. “I'm glad to have run into you, Professor.”

“Snape will suffice, I'm no one's Professor these days. Have a nice evening, Hermione” he shooed her.

Waving her goodbyes, Hermione exited the coffee in a surprisingly good mood considering the past week's events. She was indeed glad to have run into Snape, glad that he was alive and well. He had after all played an equal if not more important part in winning the War as Harry. It was only justice that Snape could live peacefully now that it was all over. He seemed way less sneering that he used to and had even been _nice_ to her.

She kept smiling all the way to the Post office, decreeing that ‘Caffeinated Brews’ was her new workplace for as long as Snape would tolerate her. It was a very comfortable and tasteful place, and as she had said, the coffee was to die for. If the barista was equally delicious-looking, it was only an added bonus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, thank you for reading ! 
> 
> Kudos & comments are appreciated, please leave a constructive review !
> 
> I hope I have brought a smile to some of you during these troubled times. Please stay safe everyone !


	3. Cat got your tongue ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's that, you say ? Two updates in as many days ? Why yes, dear readers ! 
> 
> Get a glimpse at what our dear Severus thinks of Hermione, and oh my ! Did the roommates strike again ?

True to her word, Hermione came back to ‘Caffeinated Brews’ the very next day. And the one after that. And the one following. After a fortnight, she had claimed the table she had first stat at as her own and Snape had her order ready at eight AM sharp every day. Upon her arrival, they wouldn't talk much, only exchanging greetings. Hermione would clutter her table with her workload of the day, either _The Quibbler_ articles or drafts for the book she was currently working on. The coffee shop was a very relaxing working environment for Hermione. She was finally able to take some holidays from the madhouse and that suited her all right. She would have a break at lunch, exchange a few more words with Snape and looking at the other customers and people passing past the window while eating. The place was never empty, while never being too crowded. The noise was very bearable, and a _muffliato_ did the trick whenever she needed more calm. All in all, it was a perfect arrangement.

In the late afternoon, when it was only Hermione and a few others left, she would tidy her papers and share a cup of tea with Snape at the counter. They had started engaging in academic discussions relating varying fields, often based on the last edition of _The Quibbler_. She was pleasantly surprised by this turn of event and enjoyed their chats greatly. Snape wasn't scolding her at every turn the way he did at Hogwarts and even answered her questions when deemed relevant. He in turned asked her about her work, seemingly interested in her answers. Hermione found out a few more clues to the post-War Severus Snape during those late afternoon teas. He still ran a Potion business via owl. Having lived on coffee only for the main part of his life, he had arrived to the conclusion that it was an underrated beverage in Britain and thus took upon himself to show his customers what real coffee was. Hence ‘Caffeinated Brews’, which had started more as a hobby than a real business project. It seemed Snape had been right in his conclusions about British people having bad taste in coffee, as ever since it opened the establishment was a huge success.

Hermione herself didn't have much to reveal that Snape didn't already know.

“Why would you write children's books and work for _The Quibbler_ while you could be pursuing a Mastery in any field you chose ?” he had asked her during one of those late afternoons.

That was the most personal question he had asked her since their reacquaintance. She had thought long and hard about what she would do with her life at the end of the war. She had passed her NEWTS independently, for closure. Then she had spent a month hunting for her parents in Australia in order to give them their memories back. Upon coming back to England, she had been overwhelmed by the media assault once again and found shelter in the muggle world where she was soon joined by Harry, Neville, and the three Slytherin.

She could have pursued a Mastery, but the idea of focusing solely on one subject didn't quite sit with her. She kept studying several fields in her free time, but she wanted to do something bigger. Something for the others, those who had survived and, like her, were trying to rebuild their lives. She remembered fondly her childhood years, before the War, before Hogwarts. How she would plunge into a new book and immerse herself in a different world every day. That's how she got the idea of writing children's books. Besides ‘Babbity Rabbity and her cackling stump’, there were very few stories written for young wizards and muggle literature was still very scarce in the magical bookstores. So she started writing small stories in which she would feature magical and non-magical characters, but also various magical creatures. She took upon herself to undo the clichés that were still running rampant about the muggle world, werewolves and such. Her characters would show kindness and compassion. Finally, there were no villains in her stories.

So she explained her reasoning to Snape, who then asked to read some of her published books. That made Hermione very anxious, and at the same time she couldn't help but smile at the idea of Severus Snape reading children's stories. The very next day, he had deemed them ‘Acceptable’ and Hermione had spent the evening beaming.

Snape didn't ask her about her former Gryffindor associates, and she didn't broach the subject. One insufferable know-it-all was probably more than enough for his sanity and peace of mind, and she desperately wished to stay in his good graces. She wasn't ready to give up her newfound workplace. Those personal subjects were scarcely spoken of, and their chats remained focused on more neutral topics.

______

At ten in the morning on the fifteenth day however, her mug and cinnamon roll sat cold on the counter. She hadn't come. Snape had readied her usual morning order like every day since she had first entered his coffee. He had been apprehensive that first day that his little bubble of peace would pop with the arrival of Granger. He had stayed professional but cold towards her, waiting for the personal questions to come. But they hadn't. She had claimed a table and stayed there the entire day without once erupting in thousands of questions – which he had been expecting – and instead had revealed herself to be the perpetrator of Rita Skeeter's electric downfall. The so-called reporter had been on his hit-list since the articles she had published in the aftermath of the war, revealing his deepest secrets to the entire world. However, it was hard to take down one of the most well-known celebrities of the Magical World while in the meantime staying dead to said world. Murder wasn't really his cup of tea, no matter what people believed, and he was tired of spying. So he had instead relocated to the muggle paradise called Cuba and spent six months indulging in cocktails, cigars and sunbathing. He had discovered that once he got out of the dungeons, and applied sunscreen topically, he could indeed tan.

But after a time, he got bored. And a bored Snape makes for a grouchy Snape. And a grouchy Snape isn't a happy Snape. Peace and happiness were all he wished for now, strongly believing that he deserved at least that after all. So, he went back to England. He had stayed in the Muggle world for a time and started a Potion business by owl in order to keep himself busy. However, after having tasted real South American coffee, and being heavily dependent on the beverage singe he was fifteen, England was hell. He had tried all the coffee shops in London to find a decent one. He even resorted to disguising himself to go to Diagon Alley to fail once again. Failure was unacceptable. So, he imported coffee beans directly from South America with his next Potion ingredient shipment and started working. If London wasn't going to provide him with a real coffee, he would do it himself. After many trials and experimentations, he had found himself with at least three dozens of different blends to suit his moods. But in the end he was still bored, if well-caffeinated.

As a last resort, he decided that showing Britain what real coffee was would be fun. Yet, his special blends required a magical environment, since they had to be grounded just the right way, and kept at a very specific temperature to stay fresh. So, he returned to Diagon Alley. After a year, it had been brought back to its usual buzzing, noisy glory, but there were still locals that were left vacant. During one of those trips, still under a heavy disguise, he came across _the_ shop. It was perfect. Not located in the busiest part of the street, but still in the customers' path. Large windows on the facade let the light in. Inside, he could see what probably used to be a pub, with a wooden counter and a few tables and chairs scattered around. He had bought it the following day.

If he wasn't keen on doing a sensational reappearance in the Magical World, he was fine with his customers recognizing him even though his looks had changed quite a bit. It was mind-boggling what a stress- and madmen-free lifestyle did to oneself. On top of that, Rita Skeeter's and _The Daily Prophet_'s downfall left him free of the hassle of paparazzis. He stayed polite with his customers, and the majority of them either didn't mind drinking something coming from him or left the place upon recognizing Severus Snape. That was fine by him and soon he had a few regulars. He didn't advertise for his café, counting instead on the good taste of real coffee drinkers. A year after the opening of ‘Caffeinated Brews’, Snape was at peace and happy. But he was still bored.

Granger's arrival had made him curious. Obviously, she had changed since her Hogwarts know-it-all days but was still elbow-deep in books and papers. Snape surprised himself by engaging in conversation with her. She wasn't sprouting entire paragraphs from books anymore, and it was nice speaking about something else than the weather. It was a good distraction, and she wisely stayed away from the topics that would have seen her banned from his establishment. She wasn't bad-looking either, and he had even caught her ogling him from time to time. All in all, he liked Granger. ‘Hermione’, he reminded himself.

So, when she hadn't come that fifteenth day, he found himself wondering. She hadn't let anything indicating that she wouldn't be here the previous day. Maybe she had other engagements ? ‘Maybe she has finally quenched her curiosity about your sorry arse’ his mind-voice added. At eleven, he put away her usual order. Good coffee and pastries going to waste annoyed him a great deal. By noon, he was in a brooding mood. He still served his customers, if a bit more curtly than usual. He didn't expect Hermione anymore, but couldn't help himself to keep looking for her not-so-bushy mane when a patron passed the door. He tried to busy himself with cleaning and rearranging his counter and display while chastising himself. His mind was in the middle of a long and well-oiled rant about tasteless ignorants keeping asking him for decaffeinated drinks although the sign clearly said ‘_Caffeinated_ Brews’, when the door suddenly opened, making more noise than was strictly necessary. He was about to scold the incomer about their own lack of manners when he came face to face with an out of breath Hermione Granger.

“I'm afraid you're a bit late for your usual,” he said, his trademark eyebrow rising.

_____

She was still trying to get her breathing back in order and could do nothing but glare at him. Her day had been hell, once again. As soon as she had been able to, which was way later that she had hoped, she had raced to Snape's café, hoping a good cup of his special blend would enable her to calm down. She firmly readjusted her hat as she answered him :

“Good day to you too, Snape. I'll have your afternoon blend then if you please.”

Without further exchange and with her cup in hand, she headed to her usual table. She hadn't brought any work to do in her hurry and her mind wasn't really into it right now. So, she waited patiently until their usual tea time. In the meantime, she kept an eye on Snape, watching him preparing drinks, serving pastries and cleaning around the room. Their eyes crossed a few times. Hermione was starting to become impatient and anxious as the minutes seemed to stretch into hours. She was positive Snape would be able to help her. However, his willingness in the matter would be another story entirely. They seemed on their way to a tentative friendship if their chats were anything to go by, and she admitted to herself that she was quite fond of this new Severus Snape. Not that she knew the previous one very well, mind. So, she tried to stay positive and kept waiting.

‘_Finally !_’ Hermione thought with a huff, as the last customers left that afternoon. She made her way to the counter with her empty cup at the same time as Snape was putting a fresh pot of tea on the counter. However much they appreciated coffee, they were still proper British citizens, and therefore tea-time was tea-time. Snape didn't seem keen on starting the conversation as he poured them both a cup, so she went for it.

“Do you remember the cat-incident I was involved in during my second year at Hogwarts ?” she said bluntly, nibbling on her lip.

“Obviously. Who do you think uncatified you ?” was his answer. “Why ?” he added with a hint of curiosity.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione went for the hat she hadn't disposed of since leaving her bedroom earlier. She took it off and closed her eyes firmly shut, tensing in anticipation for Snape's reaction. She waited. After a minute, she carefully opened one eye to see Snape attempting to stifle _giggles_ while trying not to stare at the two big cat ears that stood proudly on top of her head.

“Don't laugh at me !” she exclaimed, both eyes glaring at him, “It was none of my doing this time !”

“Explain yourself,” he said.

She slapped his arm in mock anger as he was still on the burst of laughter. “Cat hair Polyjuice Potion in my drink. Can you help me ? I succeeded in removing all the other cat-features, except for the ears.”

“How the hell didn't you notice Polyjuice in your drink ?” he said in surprise.

“I was pissed. That's not the point. Can you help me or not ? Pretty please ?” she made doe eyes at him, which with the cat ears and pouting lip was all too cute on a Snape-scale of cuteness.

“This way”, he said after rolling his eyes, pointing to the back room. With a flick of his wand, he closed the door and the blinds went down.

Passing around the counter, Hermione found herself in a large room divided into two areas. On her left were spotless ovens, coffee blenders, working surfaces, and refrigerators. That was expected. What she hadn't been prepared for was a fully-functional potion lab on the other part of the room. Shelves full of meticulously labeled ingredient bottles and jars covered the walls above tables where cauldrons of all sizes and materials, equally spotless, waited for their master. Wards separated the two areas in order to prevent all interferences. An appreciative whistle escaped her. That was without a doubt the heaven of all potion adepts.

“Not bad, huh ?” Snape's voice interrupted her contemplation.

“That is the best lab I've seen outside Hogwarts,” she answered.

“That one was mine too,” Snape teased her. “Have a seat,” he said pointing to a chair near one of the tables.

Snape came closer to her as he examined her cat ears up-close. He had rolled up his sleeves and she had a perfect view of his tattoo as he started muttering to himself. As she had concluded the first time she had seen it, it was definitely Luna's work. In place of the Dark Mark was now a silver and aqua phoenix battling with a huge basilisk. The fight played again and again as she couldn't help but wonder at the meaning behind it. Snape had walked a fine line between Light and Dark his whole life until the end of the war. She had heard Harry's speech during the Final Battle but guessed that Snape was infinitely more complex than he let show. His choice of tattoo seemed a testimony to that in Hermione's opinion. Her musings were once more interrupted by Snape.

“Your attempts to reverse the potion were fine, but you forgot to take into account the effects of alcohol when mixed with Polyjuice. There's a reason it is never watered down despite its awful taste. I'll have the antidote ready in a couple of hours,” he said, backing away from her as he finished his diagnostic.

“Thank you,” Hermione said, relieved that by the end of the day she would be relieved of her new unnecessary and very much unwanted hair accessory.

“Now, how did you come to drink cat-Polyjuice while drunk ? That's not the most common potion slipped to young witches,” he asked, eyebrow raising once again, picking ingredients from the shelves.

“That's a long story,” she started.

“I have two hours to spare,” Snape said with a small smile.

“Well, you see, it all started with Neville...”

So for the next two hours, as Snape brewed the antidote, he listened to the story of how four Gryffindors and three Slytherins came to live together and about the war that had been ongoing without anyone's notice for the past year.

“... So, after I transfigured Ginny and Draco into Tweety and Sylvester and Harry told everyone about the Cat-Polyjuiced-Hermione-Incident one night, I believe Pansy took the idea to recreate said incident. We celebrated Blaise's birthday last night and she must have waited for me to be properly drunk before slipping the potion so I wouldn't notice. It was only when I woke up this morning that I realized what had happened. Hence why I was late today,” she finally concluded.

They were both silent for a few minutes while Snape digested it all. Granger's life seemed way less boring than his for sure, but he could only sympathize with her. There were borders that shouldn't be crossed.

“So, what you're telling me is that a Malfoy, a Zabini, a Parkinson, a Weasley, a Potter, a Longbottom and a Granger have all managed to live under the same roof for the past couple of years without killing each other ?” he said befuddled.

“For now,” she seemed defeated.

“You want to end this war,” he surmised.

“I do. I just haven't found the idea that would make me the ultimate winner and therefore putting a term to it.”

She had scratched her brain countless times for an idea, but none were coming. Pranking wasn't really her strong suit to start with. She hoped maybe Snape would be able to point her in the right direction. He had after all been Head of House for almost twenty years and was the epitome of Slytherin : resourceful, cunning and brilliant.

“Hmm. Maybe you haven't looked at it the right way. Your pranks all seem directed at one or two people at a time. You should plan for a more large-scale scheme,” were his words of wisdom, as he passed her a goblet of foul-smelling potion.

“Ugh, why does the antidote have to be as bad as the potion, one would wonder,” Hermione muttered in disgust as she gulped it down in one swallow, grimacing.

Bringing a hand to the top of her head she finally felt the cat ears disappearing after a few moments. Heaving a sigh of relief, she glanced at Snape who was standing relaxed against a table, his arms crossed.

“Thank you for that potion and for your insight on the situation. I won't impose on you any longer,” Hermione told him as she stood.

“You're very welcome. I must admit I haven't had much excitement in the past couple years, I'd be curious to know about your strategy,” Snape said as he went to accompany her to the front door of the coffee.

“Why, Severus Snape, I wouldn't have thought you'd be ready to go to war again,” Hermione teased him with a smile.

“I might just be,” he replied with a smile of his own, unlocking and opening the door for her. “At least my life isn't on the line this time around, and I'd have a brilliant ally. See you tomorrow, Hermione,” he added before locking the door once more, winking at her and apparating on the spot.

Hermione was left with her mouth hanging open in the middle of Diagon Alley. Snape thought she was brilliant ? And did he just _wink_ at her ? The weather seemed a bit hot as she made her way to the Leaky Cauldron to floo back home. She'll sleep on it. Maybe tomorrow she'll wake up with an equally brilliant plan to end this nonsense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed ! Please leave a review, feedback is very helpful as I am still fairly new to writing.
> 
> There will be two chapters left, and maybe an epilogue ?
> 
> XOXO
> 
> Fluffy Chantilly


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